School of Music
by simbits
Summary: After the worst possible thing happens, Kelsey is stuck starting at a new school her senior year. Will she be able to find the strength to make it through this year when all odds are against her?
1. A Fresh Start

_Author's note: So I have been thinking of this for sometime now and wanted to give this idea a shot. Not sure if I'll continue or not, give me some feedback and I'll continue if you say it's a good idea!_

_Thanks_

_-Simbits

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A Fresh Start

"Bzzzzzzzzt. Bzzzzzzzzt." I looked down as I felt a slight vibrating in my lap. My phone was lit up and in the little screen I saw the words "New Text". Sighing, I picked up the cell phone and flipped it open. I responded to the text and smiled.

"Was that Al?" my mom asked, as she signaled to get into the exit lane. "How is he handling the move, anyways?" This was my mom for you, always trying to butt in; I didn't mind though. My mother and I have had such a rocky relationship for as long as I remembered, so I never dared get onto her bad side.

"Yeah, that was him. Al and I talked about it and we promised each other that we would try to make it work." My mom grunted and kept on driving. Indeed it would be hard, but I felt that our relationship was strong enough to last. We had been dating since the middle of freshman year and it seemed almost perfect. Sure it was my very first relationship, but I had a hunch that it was supposed to be like that.

The only negative in the relationship was I knew that I wasn't in love with Al; something that doesn't worry me so much since I'm so young. He had told me that he loved me a few months after we started to date, then stopped a few months after that. Yet again, I was fine with that.

The car rumbled one last time until it finally turned off, as we rolled into the driveway. I pulled my long dirty blond hair back into a quick ponytail as I got out of the car. I looked up at my mother's home. The same as it had always been, a two-story home with the red brick chimney, situated in the quaint little neighborhood of Warren. I heard the front door open and quickly walked to the back of the car and opened the trunk.

"Hey hun," a deep male voice said, then I heard lips smack. I looked through the car to see my mom's boyfriend for the first time. My parents had divorced almost a decade ago and my mother finally decided to settle down. The had been dating for a year now, and had been engaged for a month.

I was shocked at first to see that he must have been only ten years older than I; the initial shocked died down when I realized that my mother wasn't that much older than him. She had me when she was only seventeen, and while she was a senior dating my father in high school.

My step-dad had dark brown hair, and deep blue eyes that were hard to not look at. I shook my head and picked up my duffel bag. Taking a deep breath, I straightened up and tossed my head to the side to get my bangs out of my eyes. I took a step forward and moved out from behind the van. My mother quickly broke away from her fiancé and looked at me. I saw his reach for her hand and he squeezed it, but she quickly pulled her hand away.

"Kelsey, John, John, Kelsey". She leaned forward as she took a step and walk briskly by me to grab more bags. I bit my bottom lip and looked up at John. He looked at me straight in the eyes and then quickly looked away and cleared his throat. I rebalanced the bag on my shoulder and walked by him into the house. The house was so much more friendly now than last time I was there; all of the windows seemed to be opened and a soft summer breeze was drifting in. Sunlight cascaded in through the kitchen window, onto the counter tops. There were pots and pans on the stove, giving sign that John was cooking dinner for the three of them. Ugh, he was going to try and be my dad, when he was young enough to be a brother, or cousin or friend...

I walked into the living room where the stairs were located at the far end. I made my way over to them and gradually climbed the stairs, shifting the weight of the bag around on my shoulders again until I arrived into my old bedroom, still set up how I had it three years ago. Smiling I began to put some of my clothes away.

Moves like this were tough but I was used to them by now. I never had a boyfriend before though during a move, so I was a little sad about it, wanting to stay with my father, but he insisted that I go.

Al was such a great guy, he made me laugh like no other guy, and made me smile to no extent. We spent the majority of the past three years together, going on many adventures.

I heard banging and dragging coming up the stairs and dropped the hangers I had in my hands to get to the stairs. My mother had John dragging some more of my belongings up the stairs.

"Here, let me get that for you," I said, grabbing the other end of the luggage. He released his hand and continued to drag up the other bag.

"Wow Kelsey, you have a lot of clothing," He joked nervously. I looked at him and tried to smile.

"I guess I do, I try to shop at secondhand stores because it's cheaper."

"Is this all you brought with you? Just clothing?" He gestured to the three bags of clothing I had brought.

"Yeah, well for now at least," I said. "I paid for the rest to get shipped over here in a few boxes. I didn't want to have to pay so much for the extra luggage on the plane. It should all get here in a day or so." I tried to smile again, but felt fake, so I looked away and started to hang more clothing.

"I have dinner cooking downstairs, so you can come down when you'd like to. It won't be done for another hour or so." I continued hanging my stuff up, with my back turned to him, and I heard him leave after a moment or so.

I could tell he was trying hard to get me to like him. He really didn't have to though, I wasn't some snobby brat. Yeah, I was seventeen, but I felt like I was a little more mature than he thought I was. I wasn't going to snap at him, or whatever he had in mind. If my mom was happy with him, I wasn't going to stop her from being happy.

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I wasn't used to sitting down at a dinner either. For as long as I could remember, we never did this, with my dad, the last time I was with my mom, and even when my parents were still together. The food was good though. Throughout dinner, John and I ended up getting along really well. We joked around like old friends and it seemed like my mom was actually in a good mood around me.

" Ha so Kelsey, how do you feel about starting at a new school your senior year?" John asked me, helping himself to some more food. "I know that I would of hated that."

I smiled halfheartedly, my mood drastically changing. "I don't like the word hate, or else I would hate the feeling too." I looked down at my food and played with it a bit. "It's going to be tough having to spend my last year of such a big milestone in life with people I barely know." I looked up and glared at my mother. Ever since the divorce when when I was seven, I was sentenced to spend three years with one parent before I went to the other for three years.

I knew it was pointless to complain though, seeing how there was no way my dad was going to take me back again. I was just going to have to cope with not seeing my friends and making new ones.

"It's fine though, I love meeting new people, always have, and I'm not going to get anywhere being a sourpuss, right?" I smiled, a real smile this time.

"I knew you would come around." My mother commented, taking a sip of her tea. John gave her a look.

"We're really happy that you're here Kelsey, really." John said, with all the corniness of a corn muffin. He really was being sincere though.

"Yeah, I'm neutral. It'll turn out to be good, so no worries, right?" I smiled again and looked up at both of them. They were looking at each other with flirty looks. Right. This would be a great year.

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_Thanks for reading! Leave me some reviews so I can decide my next step. :)_


	2. Restless Thoughts

_Thank you for those of you who reviewed. I really want you guys to leave reviews for me, please! It helps so much, I'm so insecure about my writing, and need all of the help that I can get!_

_Anyways, this chapter is going to go back and review what went on before the move, and will give a little bit more character to your main character, Kelsey._

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Restless Thoughts

After dinner, I laid back in my bed. It was so hard to even think about going to bed with everything that was going through my head. As my head clouded up and my eyes rolled back a bit, images started to come to me, forcing me to relive the terrible last month before the move...

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"Kelsey, get over here." My father's gruff voice called me to come into the living room where he was watching a sitcom on the television. It had just gone onto commercial by the looks of it. When I entered the room, I sat down on a chair opposite of him. "I went ahead and bought your plane ticket already, if that's alright with you." I stared at him in disbelief. My last day of school had been a few days ago, and already he was looking forward to my departure.

"I wanted to talk to you about that dad, about me moving that is." He looked up at me away from the television for the first time. "I was thinking, since I only have one more year of high school left, it would be best for me to just finish it off here."

"No, I knew this would be coming, but your mother and I have an agreement, and I'm not go to break it because you want to prance arou-"

"Prance around? I know that mom wouldn't mind if I stayed the year, and it's not that I want to _prance around_, but it would be better for me to stay with the current teachers-"

He stood up and glowered at me, stopping my words. "No, you're not going to stay here. You're not going to stay." He walked away and into the kitchen, insinuating that he was finished talking.

_Not so fast, _I thought. I followed him into the kitchen and waited till he acknowledged me by looking my way. "Do you not care about what would be best for me dad?" I waited while he shuffled through some envelopes. "It's not like I don't do much around here. It's like having your own personal maid. I pay for my own bills, and even cook you meals."

"That's not it Kelsey. You just don't understand." He turned away again. I could tell I was pushing it, but kept going.

"It's just one more year, then I'll leave for college."

"No."

"Please?"

"The answer is no. I don't need a brat like you bothering me." He threw an envelope onto the table, grabbed his car keys and then walked out the back door. I stood there in disbelief as I thought of it all. My friends, my in-state scholarships, my band...

I picked up the envelope and looked inside, finding my one way plane ticket departing in one month.

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All I could think about was my band. The past three years I gave my all to this band, and was to take my new position as First Lieutenant in the fall. It brought tears to my eyes when I thought of how I wouldn't be there for my section, wouldn't be there for what was supposed to be my last year as a marching Mustang.

Music was and always has been my passion and always will be. The band that was once just a band of thirty my freshmen year had bloomed to an outstanding eighty last year, and was a steady second place. This year we all hoped to go above and beyond and reach for the beloved first. I was expected to be there just like I had been there the past few years.

I was leaving in a week, and the Mustangs' band camp would be starting this week. I wanted to show up the first day to talk to the director and to tell him personally.

My closest friends already knew, and were barely speaking to me. How could I leave them, the year they needed me most? No one understood that it wasn't my choice, no one but Al.

I scooted farther down into my covers and closed my eyes, hoping that a good night of sleep would do me some good.

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I pulled into the parking lot and took a deep, deep breath, turning my head to the left. I looked over across the lawn in the direction of the band room door. I could see a few of the Mustangs sitting around the door, joking around, waiting for the time to get closer to report time. More students were arriving each minute; the new members were clutching onto their instruments tightly with one hand, leading their parents into the room, and older members running to the door to greet old friends.

I turned off the car and got out, starting that dreaded walk to the door. I could hear my name being called by friends and I gave half waves insinuating that I did not want to start a conversation at the moment. The kids at the door all smiled at me.

"Hey Kelsey!" one sophomore said, getting up to hug me. I allowed him to hug me and he pulled away. "It's not that early, you look so tired." I nodded and walked into the band room.

All around the room huge framed pictures of each year's band were displayed from the past thirty years. Shelves holding the trophies for that year were underneath each picture. All around the band room everyone was getting instruments out and finding their sections, catching up with each other.

"Trumpets, cabinet." I yelled out, finding my authoritative voice coming back to me. I hadn't told any of them yet. I couldn't find the heart to tell them. All of my trumpets last year were freshmen, clinging to me, sponging my knowledge up. They looked up to me, and looked to me for strength. Too shy were they to play without me, always waiting for me to put my horn up before following suit.

"I really don't know how to tell you this," I began, making sure to make eye contact with them all before continuing on. "But I won't be marching with you guys this year." These words didn't have the effect I thought that they would.

"Oh gosh, you got Drum Major didn't you!?" One of the girls asked, jumping up and down. They all started to talk at once, some coming to congratulate me. I shook my head, pushing them off.

"I didn't tell you that you were dismissed yet." They immediately lined back up. "And no, I did not get the Drum Major position." I could feel a tear coming to my eye as I prepared to say the next line. "I'm moving to Massachusetts to live with my Mom." They were all silently staring at me. Laughter filled our ears as someone tripped down the ramp. "Dismissed." I turned to walk away.

"Kelsey, you can't be serious." The same girl said. "What are we going to do without you?" I looked at her.

"You guys have so much more potential than you think. You'll do fine without me. I've got to go talk to the director." I continued my walk down to his office, dreading the results.

I knocked on his door and heard him permit entrance. His messy office mirrored the messy director. He was fresh out of college the year I came to this high school. We had seen the best and worst of each other. His boyish smile was the same as each year and his sloppy hair still looked unbrushed. He immediately smiled at me when he saw me and sat up.

"Ah, Kelsey I'm glad that you got here early. We have to discuss the new rules that we have for the year." He rustled some papers around like he was looking for something.

"Um, Mr. Jones I have to tell you something."

"Yes? Ah, here it is" He pulled up a piece of notebook paper that was filled with notes. "I really do think that this will be the best year yet, Kels. We've worked hard for this, and I'm going to need all of the help that I can get," He looked out his door and added "Especially with the current drum major." He gave me the cut throat sign and laughed. The director never had a say in who the drum major was, the old band director was the one who they auditioned to.

Mr. Jones and I were the best of pals. His love for the band was as strong as mine, and we both understood how much guidance it needed.

"I'm moving to Massachusetts." He looked up at me, his face fallen.

"Kelsey.."

"I'm sorry. I can't do anything about it." I could feel the tears finally falling down.

"Kelsey, I can't do this without you." We looked at each other. For the past three years we both leaned on each other for support for everything. He bounced his ideas off of me like I did to him. We were a dynamic duo. Mr. Jones slumped into his chair and put his head in his hands.

I walked around to his side of the desk and hugged him. "You can do it, you don't need me."

I pulled away and looked at him; He was a broken director, removed of the stone that he leaned on when he needed to most.

But most of all he was my Uncle, and I just hurt him to no end.

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_Thanks for reading!_


	3. Jitters

_Wow, sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter out. I started my second semester at my university January 5th and I've been concentrating so hard on not messing up. Figures that I ended up starting the Twilight series (and finishing it) AMAZING series, for anyone who is into a good teen romance._

_Anyways I touched up the third chapter a bit, from the original first one I posted, just added a bit to clear some confusion up. (Yes, that was a flashback to before she left)_

_Alright well, I hope this chapter was worth the wait!_

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Jitters

Sleep didn't come to me very easily that night. Life in Warren was, well, dull. I never left the house much, so I never got the chance to meet anyone around my age. The days seem to haze into one another, melding into one continuous faze. It hadn't been too long since I moved here, but it had been long enough.

Tomorrow would be the day that would decide how the remainder of my high school days went. It would show the outcome of where I went to school, who I befriended, and what level of respect I'll hold with them. The piece was well practiced, and I knew exactly how to get it across.

I shuddered as I thought about tomorrow, and shook the thought away. I had to keep my mind off of it, it was consuming me. I had to think of something else.

Memories of my uncle's broken face filled my head. How his mouth stood ajar, and his breaths could be heard in low, raspy bouts. Tony may have been my uncle, but he felt like my brother. Only five years older than I, Tony and I were brought up together. My father's mother gave birth to her second child over a decade after my father himself was born. A big shock indeed.

He was never that close with my father because of the obvious age difference. My father had always been the manly sports type, while my uncle was more sensitive, taking the music route. Tony was five when I was born, and we were always around each other, raised like we were brother and sister.

I knew him all too well. I could tell that he was hurt that I wouldn't be able to stay and watch over the band with him that year, but after his initial reaction, he threw on a stone face. He didn't want to make this harder on me.

So protective of me, like he was scared that I would break. I shifted positions and rolled to lay on my left side, pulling my legs in.

I picked up my cell phone and clicked the send button twice, calling the last person I called. After a few short rings, I was sent to Al's voice mail. I got his voice mail a lot recently.

I settled on staring out of the window. I could see the leaves blowing in the summer wind through the horizontal blinds. The moonlight was shining onto my floor, lighting up the carpet a bit. It reminded me of back home, minus the whole second floor part. My old house had one floor. Maybe if I closed my eyes and wished real hard, I would wake up, back in California. Back where I belonged.

I closed my eyes, just humor myself. I squeezed them extra tight, hurting my head. I loosened the muscles a bit and peeked out- nope, still in Warren. I sighed and pulled my covers tighter.

I looked over to my trumpet case under my desk. I had cleaned it today, and shined it. I wanted no chance of malfunction during my audition tomorrow. Back in California, I attended a regular high school, but here in Warren, there were two high schools close to me. The regular Warren High School, and then the Northeast Warren School of Music, or NewSom. I decided to audition originally because I wanted to give myself a challenge. I figured that if I was busy with music, that it would cancel out the morose mood that I was in.

I was lucky to even be able to audition. If John wasn't old high school friends with one of the professors, I would have been going to WHS for sure.

The audition material was not a hard piece at all, but I couldn't let that convince me of my success. I had to get the piece's point across just right. I read up on the background of the piece to find out that it was composed from a poem on the death of a friend.

The sorrow and tears described in the poem itself would have to be felt from the music. I was hoping that I would portray it well. Would the judges see potential in me? With no private lessons at all as a kid, would they think that I had the knowledge needed to be accepted into this school?

Newsom only accepted one hundred new students into the music program each year. Would I be part of that number?

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I walked from behind the faded gray curtains and onto the center of the stage. There was a black stand waiting for me, with nothing on it. When I reached the stand, I pulled it up to my height and placed my audition music onto it. I looked out into the seats to where the judges sat. The judges' faces could not be seen. They were black outlines located in front of the seating of the auditorium. The lights shined brightly into my eyes making it hard to see. I looked away from the judges and let my eyes wander to the music. I could feel the sweat beading up on my hairline, and forming on the nape of my neck.

I heard a judge clear his throat, so I held up my horn. I licked my lips in preparation to play, and let the sweet metal of my mouthpiece to touch my lips. As soon as I started to buzz into the mouthpiece, I knew something was wrong. The note that emitted was that of a car horn.

Mortified, I looked at my horn, which seemed to be perfectly fine. I brought the mouthpiece back up to my lips and tried again. The note was that of a car horn again. I could feel the judges shaking their heads, already crossing my name off of the list, disappointed that they allowed me to come audition.

I was scared and confused. I heard a low slam, as the center judge closed my file shut.

"Next", his voice rung out clear and crisp. But I just stood there, looking into the bright blackness, still mortified.

And then I woke up, and rolled over.


End file.
